


Kiara's Pogues

by iamamuggle14



Series: Kildare Pogues [1]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Crushes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, JJ Has Feelings For Kiara (Outer Banks), JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)-centric, Kiara Has Feelings For JJ (Outer Banks), Kiara meet Pogues, Mike Carrera is a good dad, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Pogues meet Kiara, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season/Series 01, Swearing, this is really focusing on their friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28789260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamamuggle14/pseuds/iamamuggle14
Summary: Kiara laughs and cries with the Pogues but what happens in the moments in between? The highs and lows of Kiara's life while she learns the ins and outs of getting to pick her family.This is a look into parts of Kiara's life before, during and (possibly) after season 1.
Relationships: JJ & Kiara & Pope & John B. Routledge, JJ & Kiara (Outer Banks), Kiara & John B. Routledge, Kiara & Pope (Outer Banks)
Series: Kildare Pogues [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110650
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe she was deprived of a person she actually sought out to share her opinions with and complain to and not feel the need to be a chameleon around. Maybe she just wanted a friend more badly than she thought she did and maybe, just maybe, she finally found a keeper."

Kiara was always praised for doing things she did when she had a false face on and because she didn’t much care for praise anymore, she figured she’d gradually let the face slip. It was always something to do with her manners or behavior, strangers commenting to her parents on how sweet of a young girl they had raised. It started feeling repulsive to Kiara and quite frankly, exhausting, because she never felt deserving of compliments when it meant so much time wasted pretending to be someone she knew she wasn’t. Even from a young age, she knew she didn’t like feeling like something her parents practically flaunted around, almost like it was a competition to raise the perfect son or daughter. Her mother wanted her to be someone else was what it was, she told herself. And maybe her dad wanted it as well, but it came from a different place than wanting to have a daughter that didn’t need so much guidance and constant reminders of the so-called luxuries she had. She knew her dad just wanted her to be happy and that’s why it was his voice that she listened to when the topic of counseling was brought up in the Carrera household. 

“I’m not saying something’s wrong with you, I’m just saying you focus on the wrong things sometimes and it’s okay to need help, Kiara.” Her mother’s clipped tone was begging for the conversation to be over as she continued to tuck the spaghetti-filled tupperware in the refrigerator, rolling her eyes in the process. 

Kiara was slouched against the kitchen island, tangling a hand in her hair as she watched her mother reach for a wine glass and a bottle. She traced a finger along the cool marble surface, trying to refrain from giving her mother another reason for thinking she needed help by telling her she didn’t want it at all. 

“Why am I still getting the impression that you think something is fundamentally wrong with me then- “

“Kiara, don’t make this bigger than it needs to be, this is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Okay, how big does it need to be then?” Sarcasm drips from her bitter voice as she raises her eyebrows, tilting her head in a way she did when she too no longer wanted to participate in a discussion. 

It was a fight, though, not even a discussion or an argument, she wasn’t one to kid herself. 

She could tell her mother was about to do the thing she does where she decides she won and that’s the end of it and Kiara just wouldn’t have it. It would probably be a wasted breath but at the end of the day, it was her who would have to sit through counseling, not her mother, and if that meant fighting for the last word then so be it. 

“You don’t realize what you’re doing to yourself, Kiara, you’re making yourself miserable! You come home and refuse to go out or make friends because of how much the neighbor makes. Or because of how much they invested in their pool, or about things that are just none of your business- “

“I’m not miserable.” Kiara says defensively, knowing her mother was well aware of how much she hated when the woman told her how she felt. 

“I thought it was something that would pass, so I gave you your space,” Anna gestures her glass in Kiaras direction, speaking as if to a five year old, “but you brought it to school and you need to know there are consequences- “

“Consequences to what!” Kiara stands, no longer able to contain her emotions to one small spinning chair. She knew exactly what, at least a part of her did, but defending herself was tiring and she could feel the fight nearing an end. Her dad walks in just then from the living room, looking worn out from overhearing the fight that has lasted for nearly an hour already. He holds an arm out to his wife, making her scoff, holding her glass to her chest, annoyed. He then pulls out his own chair, the one next to Kiaras' now unoccupied one, and waits for his daughter's eyes.

She's reluctant because she knows what happens next, knows exactly how it goes. Her and her mother butt heads and he comes in and extinguishes the fire. It was beyond frustrating, her lack of control sometimes. 

“C’mon, K.” Mike says listlessly, patting the stool beside him. She sniffs irritatedly, hesitant to give him the satisfaction despite hearing the surrender in her voice. 

“It’s not like I go seek it out but the kids are so mean! I just can’t stand them being dicks about us- “

“Language.” her mother chides over her wine glass. Mike shakes his head. 

“What do you mean?” 

This was really what Kiara was avoiding when she would brush off her parents concern after being called into the principal's office. She knew a part of what they dealt with then they would go to parties, the talk behind their backs. It wasn’t like she ever cared for being on top, but overhearing constant reminders of just how low her parents were, while still being considered good enough to be invited to the parties in the first place, it felt wrong, like she was being betrayed somehow. Kiara always respected people more when they spoke their minds to other peoples faces, but those who did it behind backs were a different story, one she couldn’t stand and stay quiet about, whether it got her in trouble or not. 

“It’s just the stuff they hear from their parents, no doubt. About you being from The Cut. They all just talk to talk, but still…” 

Her mother looks between the two, raising her eyebrows when her husband gives her a warning look. She asks anyways. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Kiara lamely throws her arms up, rolling her neck. “Oh, what am I supposed to say?”

Anna laughs as if it’s obvious. “The truth, for starters- “

“I didn’t lie about it in the first place! As much as you’d love one more thing to add to the list of things wrong with me- “ Her mom tries to interrupt but she continues. “And I’m tellin’ you the truth now but you’re still making me go to counseling, so…” 

Anna throws her arms up and turns to leave the kitchen, finally conceding. Kiara watches her leave the room, momentarily trying to find it in herself to feel bad but fails horribly, feeling drained. Mike is quiet for a beat, making Kiara peer at him nervously. He drags a hand down his face, the way she's seen him after a long day at their restaurant. 

“This doesn’t have to be an end-of-the-world-thing, K, all we ask is that you try it. Give it a chance. It’s not for everyone so if you wanna stop, I’m right behind you, you know that.” 

She starts to argue but stops herself, knowing by this point it’s officially a losing battle, destined to be lost on her end. The idea of sitting down for an hour in front of a stranger whom you’re expected to share very personal information with never actually made sense to her, probably never would. She never had a problem sharing her feelings but it was always on her own terms. That exact notion was why she was in this mess in the first place, it’s a little hard to admit to herself. 

She slowly lowers herself back into the chair, leaning her head on her hand as she observes him and nods, mumbling a dull agreeance. 

  
\--

  
Anna didn’t want to go to the office in Figure Eight and everyone knew the school didn’t offer as adequate treatment as she would’ve preferred so when Monday afternoon rolled around, Kiara found herself sitting in a softly lit office somewhere on the edge of The Cut. 

The space would’ve calmed her any other time if she wasn’t so caught up in her head, stubbornly dwelling on how unfair it all was. She felt misunderstood by a mile and couldn’t really see a way out of the hole she had apparently been digging for herself. It was beyond frustrating, causing her to chew on the inside of her cheek, her leg bumping against her backpack which was slumped to the floor. 

Sunlight beamed through the windows, causing cloudy streams of glow around wherever there wasn’t a curtain or a set of sun damaged dust covered blinds. The crisp air conditioning was giving her goosebumps, almost to the point of discomfort if she wasn’t still warm from being outside. The small lonesome clock on the wall stared back at her, giving a quiet consistent tick that started to put her more on edge. After what felt like the twentieth glance up at it, the bell above the door rang through the room, causing her to jump a little. A wave of warm air hits her when the door swings open, sending a shiver up her back. Her and the receptionist turn their heads to see a burly brown haired man step in, his hand on the small shoulder of a curly haired boy beside him. Both of them glance around as if lost, looking a little out of place as they walk up to the receptionist's desk. 

Kiara stops bouncing her leg and nonchalantly observes the two, sitting up a little straighter. The man pushes his glasses up as he mumbles something along the lines of ‘Routledge’, glancing down at the boy, who was rubbing the soles of his worn out shoes on the carpet, as if boredom has already taken over. He has his own nearly empty-looking backpack slung across a shoulder making her realize she might recognize that sloppy hair from school. 

His tired looking eyes wander around the room while the man checks him in when they land on hers, almost accidentally. They exchange a quick smile before she looks away shyly, crossing her arms tighter. The man mumbles a thanks to the receptionist before he turns the boy so their shoulders are facing each other. 

“I’ll be here when you get done, all right?” The man raises his eyebrows for confirmation and the boy just nods, his hair bouncing into his eyes a bit. The man reaches a hand out to ruffle the messiness atop the kids head affectionately before hesitantly turning for the door. The boy stands still, staring after the man, shaking his head the tiniest bit before slowly making his way to the waiting area. 

Picking the spot right next to Kiara. 

He drops his bag right beside hers and somewhat slouches in the chair, glancing around. He picks up a flimsy magazine from the table alongside his chair, with no apparent intention to actually read it as he flips through the pages in seconds, pausing on the pictures, then tosses it aside. The receptionist gives him a dirty look. 

“Is this place as helpful as it seems?” he asks quietly, looking over at her for a response, something like a smile on his features. Not knowing whether he was talking to her or not, she doesn’t say anything at first, caught off guard by his extroverted behavior while she peers over him. 

“I mean between the health and lifestyle magazines and the portraits of water,” He gestures to the walls, “with the little ripples in it, it seems like they really know their stuff.” 

Sarcasm. _Nice_. She takes a deep breath, trying to gauge whether it was the way he said it or the fact that they’re literally in a counselors office and he’s stupidly cracking jokes that made her almost smile. 

She gives a half-hearted shrug. 

“I dunno.” She uncrosses her arms, reaching for the arms rests. “People still come here, so maybe it’s not all a hoax.”

“True.” He lets out a short, half-suppressed laugh, sliding up in his chair slightly. “So it’s your first time too?”

She purses her lips while her head does a mix between shaking and nodding, feeling as though his question implies she’s here by choice. 

“Yeah.”

“Gotcha. You sound so happy about that, too.”

She smirks, looking down at the carpet. “I’m sure you can guess at my excitement, you don’t look exactly thrilled either.” 

He drums the heels of his hands on his thighs as they sit in silence, the only sound being the obnoxious tick of the clock. 

“Is it rude to ask why you’re here?”

She has to stop herself from laughing at the absurdity of the question, regarding his face for a second. 

“Kinda? I mean, isn’t privacy a big thing here- “

He holds his hands up. “Totally understand. It’s just you look like you really don’t wanna be here.” 

“Do you?” 

“Oh, not at all.” 

She chuckles, finally looking at him again. 

“I’m John B, by the way.” 

She tries not to sound rude when she repeats it, a lightness behind her voice. He nods, as if expecting it. 

“Yeah, my dad’s name is also John, so everyone just calls me John B.” 

She smiles. “Hmm. I’m Kiara.” She pauses, feeling a little more comfortable at his friendliness, and thinks why not. “I’m here because I have a problem with…” She performs lazy air quotes, “focusing on the wrong things. Occasionally oversharing. Apparently.” 

He looks a balance between confused and amused. 

“Ahh. Sounds fun.” 

“Yeah.” She notices he starts to fidget with one of the buttons on the pockets of his shorts. 

“I’m here for family problems.” 

“That sounds way more fun.” She gently elbows his arm, making him chuckle while brushing the hair out of his face. His gestures seem sluggish, like he wasn’t fully awake yet even though it was almost evening time. 

“You’re not missing out, trust me.” 

Innocent nonsense spews from both of their all-of-a-sudden hyperactive mouths for the next ten minutes and all the previous tension is lost, all the dread she’s felt throughout the day gone. John B didn’t seem concerned about her opinions of him, didn’t appear to want to prove anything and it was a nice change, she thought. He was easy going and even easier to talk to and she was grateful, feeling as though maybe counseling might not be the end of the world. He suddenly turns to her, looking a little hesitant but curious nonetheless. 

“You don’t like surfing, do you?” 

The fact that she hasn’t really had much practice on a board immediately escapes her mind when she excitedly tells him she does, which isn't really completely a lie. It was something her dad had proposed one day after digging out his own board from when he was a kid, asking if she would want to try it. All it took was one time on the water and Kiara knew it was something she wanted to get better at, begging her dad to take her out whenever they had a free weekend, whenever he wasn’t working so much overtime with the restaurant. The opportunities showed less and less over the years, but they still managed to get in a few days a month. 

John B reciprocates her excitement, his eyes lighting up as he sits up straighter.

“Me and my friends are planning to go out this weekend if you wanna come.”

“Really?” She wants to ask what he meant by _friends_ , wondering how many people he was talking about - if they would care if she just showed up, but she can’t find the words. She tries to think back to school, vaguely recalling that he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. He was never _surrounded_ by people, at least. Sure, he would show no hesitation with opening up to people, not opposed to group projects or presentations, but it didn’t seem like he went out of his way that often. She shakes her head a bit, trying not to get distracted by the fact that she’s been around this kid for so long and only now are they actually talking, enjoying eachothers company, even. 

She assumes he picks up on her diffidence as a reassuring wave washes over his face, something that relaxes her instantly. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Also, don’t worry, they’re a bunch of harmless dorks so they’ll be fine with you- “

“Kiara?”

A woman poking her head out of one of the rooms calls out, making them both turn their heads to the voice. Despite the warm smile that meets the woman's features, the pit of dread weighs heavy in Kiaras stomach as she forces a smile of her own, standing to show that she was present. She bends down for her bag, giving John B a genuine smile, murmuring a “See ya later.”

“Yeah, have fun over sharing.” He raises his eyebrows in a gesture of _‘good luck’_ that makes her want to do nothing but talk to him for the rest of the day. Forget the appointment and just sit and talk. Maybe she was deprived of a person she actually sought out to share her opinions with and complain to and not feel the need to be a chameleon around. Maybe she just wanted a friend more badly than she thought she did and maybe, just maybe, she finally found a keeper. 

\--

Kiara left the appointment feeling shockingly indifferent towards the whole experience and she was still trying to figure out if it was a good sign or not. She couldn’t help but think if she felt nothing after the appointment, how could it possibly lead to any sort of progress, any sort of change that her mom so desperately wanted to see in her? It also could’ve been her little silver lining in all of it; getting nothing out of it meant it was a waste of time, therefore she could tell her parents so - in a way that didn’t make it sound like she may or may not be looking for an out - and boom, no more counseling. But it could also mean that she was unconsciously blowing it off, not making an effort at all, which was exactly what her dad told her not to do if she wanted the option to back out in the first place, so which was it? Maybe it was a hoax. If she was blowing it off, wasn’t that just making things harder on herself, proving her mother right in the belief that that’s all Kiara did was self-sabotage? _Fuck_ , she found herself thinking, over and over without meaning to as she sat beside her mother in the car after the appointment in the dead silence, _isn’t that the most frustrating line of thought I could’ve possibly conjured?_

Luckily, Kiara was given a little wiggle room for negotiation and because she lived a pretty much negotiation-less life, she took it gratefully. In return for going to the appointments and genuinely trying, which was an irritatingly puzzling thing to do she now realized, she didn’t have to talk about them. Her mother had reminded her more than once that if she felt the need to ‘share the experience’ she was more than welcome, but Kiara, for the life of her, could not fathom why she would ever want to. In all honesty, she realized that reiterating the appointments felt like dwelling on her supposed problems, and wasn’t that exactly why she was going to the appointments in the first place? 

It was all starting to give her a headache, causing her head to throb painfully as she started out of the window on their drive home. 

“Your choice for dinner, tonight.” her mother broke the silence, a sincere expression of blithe that only confused Kiara as she flinched at the disruption. She glanced over at her, trying her best not to comment on how it feels like bribery, or some sort of reward, for making it through her first appointment. She didn’t much care for it but brushed it off, wishing she’d stop overthinking things for once. 

“Can we make Jambalaya? Dad hasn’t really taught me the recipe yet and I just figured...”

“Sure!” Her mom immediately flicked her turn signal up, turning for the store to pick up the ingredients. Any other time, she probably would’ve said no, asked for something simpler, but now she appeared fully willing, if not a little delighted, and Kiara just pretended she wasn’t surprised. 

An hour later, throughout carefully following her dad's verbal instructions for the meal, in the back of her head she was debating on how to bring up surfing and John B. She had never made friends easily, it was no secret. During her appointment, her counselor, Tanya, seemed quite interested in discussing the topic of friends and Kiara’s tendency to reject people but luckily chose to save it for another time. Kiara was already pretty certain on where her tendencies came from, confidently assuming they bred from her standards. She would say they were high, but it’s more complicated than that, almost the opposite. She didn’t like being around kids who were only interested in swimming if it was beside a $200k ski boat or if it was in their own private in-ground pool. She liked fishing and tinkering and cooking and girls her age just didn’t. She hated shopping and gossiping and the mere idea of a slumber party made her stomach flip with a mix of anxiety and revulsion. 

Kiara despised seeing things in just black and white but the mindset felt forced on her from a young age and after trying to make friends for so long, it was really hard to shake. Because her standards were so seemingly low, they were inevitably high where she lived. That’s why when she met John B, something inside her mind told her this was the universe giving her a friend that she wouldn’t grow to loathe or grow apart from. It was silly, she knew, but it was… nice. Even if he was a boy, Kiara saw herself easily becoming friends with him. 

All of this flies through her mind as her dad gathers the pile of onion into a fry pan, passing her a washed pepper to talk her through cutting out the core and making sure to remove all of the seeds, and she can’t help but feel a bit of guilt. Cooking with him was something she used to do nearly every night and as she focuses on holding the knife the way he taught her, she realizes that it’s not going to be hard to convince him that she misses surfing with him because she missed spending time with him in general. All he seemed to do lately was work and sleep and that fact that it’s taken her this long to notice washes away any hesitancy she had towards approaching the idea of surfing again. 

By the end of the dinner, she was beaming at his openness to the suggestion. He wasn’t that expressive of a person, Kiara knew, but she picked up on the little things. Instead of tiredly cleaning up after they finished their food, he went into the garage and searched for their surfboards. He made sure she had what she needed and offered to take her to the store if they were missing anything. Even her mom was encouraging at the idea, throwing a few snacks together and pulling out their designated beach cooler.

\--

It was a hot August day, the sun beating down from directly above her and it would’ve been nice if it wasn’t nearly blinding against the water. Afternoons weren’t ideal when on the water, but their schedules only gave them so much time to burn away that wasn’t at school or at The Wreck. There was a subtle breeze relieving the heat that was radiating from the sand, alleviating the burn on her shoulders and neck. The sweat that had instantly broke out all over her body the second she stepped outside was smothering her until her legs met the water, and all discomfort instantly melted away in its coolness.

Her dad took her to the beach near The Cut, wanting some water with less traffic so she didn’t have to worry about other surfers. There were a few people milling about the beach, some sitting under umbrellas and some in the water, one other person actually surfing. From the looks of it, they really knew what they were doing and Kiara couldn’t help but watch in a bit of awe, probably staring for too long at times. 

Her dad had reminded her of the tips and tricks he was taught using, the same ones he had taught her with. She remembers most of them, but actually applying them when she was seconds away from catching a wave was another story. She rarely became frustrated as quickly as some people did, understanding that having patience with herself was the best way to go, knowing how stubborn she was.. After so many times of feeling the water push her board too harshly or her limbs jumping up too slowly, she supposed forgiveness was the only way she managed to remain out on the water for as long as she did. She had tied her hair back in a loose braid to keep it out of her face out of hindsight of wipeouts, which she had plenty to go around. 

Once she had finally dropped in successfully, her heart was racing excitedly and she hoped it wasn’t because the whole thing was effortlessly winding her. She made it back to shore to see her dad giving her a thumbs up and a smile that made her cheeks ache from grinning. 

“That’s my girl!” He held up his hands as she set down her board, clapping them as she tries to lower her heart rate, the pulsing and pounding only making her more aware of how blazing hot it was.

“I’m going to go grab the drinks from the truck, sound good?”

“Yeah.” she nods, dropping down on the towel they had set up, watching him leave towards the trail to the parking lot before turning to face the water. She tilts her head back, shaking the hair out of her face and slides her sunglasses on as she fidgets with the strings on her board shorts. Just when she’s about to reach in the netted bag for some sunscreen to reapply, she notices the boy who was surfing earlier, not too close but not too far from where she was sitting, looking at her. He looks away when she spots him, returning his focus to his board and busies himself with the cube of wax in his hand. 

By the looks of him on the water she would’ve guessed he was older but looking at him now, he appears to be no older than her and doesn’t seem to have anyone accompanying him. Beside him, there’s a small backpack with the name ‘Routledge’ stained in black into the material, striking a distant thought she can’t quite place. 

She immediately notices two distinct details about him; the way he keeps pushing back his messy sun bleached blond hair and the deep shade of red that covers his back, shoulders and neck. 

She looks away, popping open the cap to the bottle of sunscreen and casually calls out to him, squirting a dollop in her hand. 

“You should use some sunblock. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your skin looks like one big second-degree burn.” 

He stops waxing his board for a moment, peering over at her, looking unsure for half a second as to whether she’s talking to him or not. Then he gives a small smile, his dimples making him look young and carefree. 

“You should keep more weight on the back of your board. You might not eat shit every time you catch a wave that way.” 

She wants to feel insulted but a laugh almost escapes her throat at the notion that they were unknowingly watching eachother and she’s not sure whether the burn in her cheeks is from the sun or the comment. She tries for a serious expression, only failing slightly, nonchalantly rubbing the lotion on her shoulders. 

“Excuse me?” 

He bounces his head in a nod, studying his board as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. 

“It’s physics, right? Balance and all that.” 

She responds by throwing the bottle at him, watching it fall in the sand beside him, making him look up at her with raised eyebrows. “At least I was subtle about watching you.” She mumbles while pointedly gesturing to the bottle with a tilt of her head when he doesn’t pick it up, not sure if he heard the comment. He ducks his head, something like red on his cheeks - maybe he had heard - as he exaggeratedly sets down his board and wax and reaches for the tube. He squeezes the tiniest amount in his palm and rubs it on his cheeks half heartedly, leaving white spots that led her to holding back a grin. He tosses it back to her, shrugging.

“I dunno, telling strangers to put sunscreen on because of the way their skin looks doesn’t sound very subtle to me.” 

“Dude, it was so glaringly obvious, I couldn’t help myself, are you kidding?” 

“Well…” She tries to ignore the blush on his cheeks, telling herself it was strictly sunburn, “I am now forever in your debt, miss. However shall I begin to repay you?” 

She scrunches her nose, shaking her head amused. “You missed a spot.” She deadpans, sliding down her glasses to give him a look. This time he gives a genuine smile, shrugging again and shaking his head, glancing out at the water. 

“I don’t really like sunscreen.”

“I can tell.” 

She hops up, pushing her glasses into her hair and walks over to him, suddenly feeling the need to know why he was alone at the beach on a perfectly sunny Wednesday afternoon. He squints up at her when she approaches, an unreadable expression on his face as she squats down beside him, pointing at his board. 

“Did your parents buy you that?” The board appeared to be well taken care of, not overly fancy but not a beginners board either. He stiffens, the fun little brightness in his face gone. The obvious confidence the boy held himself with seemed to slip away at her question, making her want to take it back as soon as she asked it but she knew it was too late. He scratches the back of his neck and gives a forced laugh, eyes no longer meeting hers. 

“Ah, no, it’s one of my friend’s. Him and his dad have quite the collection.” He rubs the side of his nose, almost nervously. “Actually, my mom got me my first board. I had that one for a while but then Dad… broke it.” 

He looked a little unsure of himself, as if momentarily questioning why he was telling her this. She didn’t really know what to say, peering at him with curious eyes. 

“Gotcha.” 

She nods, trying not to scrutinize him too much and scare him off. As temporarily thrown off as he was, he seemed oddly self-assured enough to recover from whatever made him uncomfortable, squinting over at her again while twisting one of the rings on his fingers. She didn’t see many kids her age with jewelry and it inexplicably intrigued her. Maybe it was because she was usually the only one who wore bracelets and rings and necklaces and spent time alone at places that kids would normally travel to in packs. She couldn’t help but think that someone with as much charisma as the boy beside her, judging from what little conversation they’ve talked up until this point, surely had to have friends. It all made her so badly want to know why he was sitting here alone, with tattered bracelets and rings that matched her own around his fidgeting fingers, looking oddly content. She lets out a deep sigh. 

“Well, you’re good. I mean, you look like you know what you’re doing.” 

She immediately has a feeling that he can’t take a compliment from the way he smirks at her, telling her to expect some form of wit. She finds herself anticipating his reply but as soon as he opens his mouth, he gets cut off. 

“Kiara!” 

Both of them jerk their heads around towards the voice. Holding two drinks in one hand, Mike slides his own sunglasses from his face with his free hand, as if to get a closer look at the two of them. Kiara stands and starts walking over to him, unaware of the hard expression on his face. 

She reaches for one of the drinks when her dad looks between her and the boy, who has resorted to distracting himself with his board once again. His friends board, she thinks. Mike gives her a stern look. 

“That Maybanks boy?” he asks in a somewhat hushed but accusatory tone, looking back over his shoulder to where the boy was sitting. 

“What?”

“That boy you were talkin’ to- “

“What about him?” she snaps, trying to remember if she’s heard the name before, having a feeling of where the conversation was heading. 

“C’mon, K,” He tips back his drink before continuing what started to feel like a lecture. “Your mother wouldn’t like you mixing with kids like that- “ 

She gives him a disgusted look, barely able to keep her voice level. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Mike sighs, reaching down to collect the bag and towel. “Don’t make me spell it out, you know damn well what it means. There’s a reason your mother and I chose to get out of The Cut when we started a family- “

She stops listening to him, biting her tongue at the realization of what he was saying. She tries not to fight with her dad because she did enough of it with her mom, it’s mostly that simple. Whether it was over superficial things like what she chose to wear to school or the way she loaded the dishwasher, or more deeper topics like how she behaved at family functions or the discussion of counseling, some form of disagreement was always met between her and her mother and Kiara was frankly used to it. But fighting with her dad was something she purposely put off limits when she could. She notices the way he involves her mother when their talks start to get heated, as though he too wants to preserve the civility between them, even if it meant throwing her mother under the bus. Sometimes she found it funny but now, hearing him blame what sounded like some form of discrimination he felt towards those who lived in The Cut on her mother, this time it just didn’t sit well with her and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. 

He must’ve taken her silence as a hint because before she knows it, he’s handing her the bag as he hauls their boards in his arms, gesturing for them to head back to the truck. And as she’s leaving the beach, something in her stomach twists painfully when she finds the spot where the boy had sat, empty, with no sign of him anywhere. 

\--

Despite waking up the next day with her muscles tight and sore, she promised herself another day of practice, even if it meant the painful exhaustion that followed. So she went to school, kept her head down the way her parents had advised her to and luckily found the end of the day approach at a satisfying pace. Her dad mentioned working later shifts at their restaurant so he ended up driving her to the same beach, much to his dislike and her request, and dropped her off with her board. 

She stretched out as much stiffness as she could and paddled out into the water, spending hours relishing in the feeling of it all. She could feel herself getting a hang of it but didn’t want to push too hard, spending the last half an hour laying on her board, feeling the lull of the water rock her around before checking her watch for the time her dad had said he would pick her up. The sun was gently setting by the time she held her board to her side as she shuffled to his truck, ignoring the sudden disappointment she feels when the boy doesn’t show. 

\--

“You wanna go over to his house… and surf? A kid you don’t even know, a boy- “

“I told you, I know him from school. It’s really not a big deal.” Kiara purses her lips, refusing to make eye contact with her mom as they both held onto the corners of the comforter, folding it and stacking it with the rest of the linen. She figured an hour before the time she was supposed to meet John B was enough time for her mother to process the concept of it all. She tried to play it down like it wasn’t a big deal, but really Kiara was a small ball of nerves and she could tell her mother saw through the act, especially considering how long it had been since she had expressed any desire to have some form of social life, let alone go to someone's house. 

“Okay,” Anna said slowly, shaking out the sheet in her hand before continuing, “Does this John B have a mother Or father or guardian that I can meet?” 

“His dad will be there.” _I’m pretty sure_. She kept the uncertainty out of her voice, not really thinking of details like that, like if they would be supervised and whatnot. She was a kid about to hang out with other kids and it hadn’t really crossed her mind until now.Isn’t that what parents worried about? Anna gave her a look and this time Kiara held her gaze, shrugging as she went on.

“Please, Mom. It’s just for a few hours and you’ll know where I’ll be anyways. I just…” She didn’t want to, but her mom left her no choice but to use the counseling card. “Tanya said it would be good for me. To get out and stuff- “

“Kiara- “

“I’m serious! We spent a lot of time talking about it and it made me feel good like I was… I don’t know, making progress or whatever.” 

It’s not completely a lie. Tanya did tell her something along the lines of trying something that didn’t revolve around wealth, something she regularly enjoyed… something like that, she thinks. They stared at each other for a solid minute before her mother gestured to the limp blanket in her hands. Kiara mirrored her folds and before she knew it, she was hopping into her mom’s car, butterflies in her stomach and a small smile on her face. 

John B had given her vague directions to his house at school, leaving Kiara trying her best to remember them well enough to relay them to her mom, who seemed strangely familiar with the area. Soon, they were pulling up to what seemed like some sort of fishing shack, surrounded by low hanging trees and unmarked trails. There was a chicken coop and a beat up looking van and Kiara enjoyed the view, admired the change in scenery compared to flashy pools and gardens. It felt homey. 

John B was sitting on the screened-in porch, staring at something in his lap and at the sound of dirt crunching under tires, his head shot up as he stood, stepping down the stairs and smiling. Maybe it was the nerves but something about it was infectious, she couldn’t help but reciprocate the smile, hopping out of the car with her mom. 

“You must be Kiara’s mom? I’m John B, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” He reaches out his hand toward Anna and Kiara, for a moment, tried to gauge whether he was straight up brown nosing or was just naturally a people person with good manners. Of course he was a people person with good manners, she thought, remembering how he behaved at school.

The man who dropped John B off at the counselors office steps off the porch and Kiara confidently assumes it is his father, now being able to place the resemblance. The unruly hair, the kind smile, even their eyes looked strikingly similar as they landed on Kiara from where he stood beside John B. She gives a shy smile when John B starts introducing her. 

“Dad, this is Kiara, Kiara, this is Dad. My friends call him Big John though, so that’s a thing. Can’t have two John’s runnin’ around ‘cause that would just be weird- “ 

Big John cuts him off by placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, shaking his head a little, amused, as if it was a form of communication shared by just the two of them as John B seems to take the hint. Big John nods, glancing through his glasses at Kiara when she waves. 

“Nice to finally put a face to the name,” he announces, now looking over at Kiara’s mother and something in his expression changes. 

“Anna.”

“John.” 

Her mother isn’t exactly smiling but she’s not neglecting a friendly demeanor either, which relieves Kiara a bit until she realizes they must already know each other. Judging from the way John B was eyeing his dad and her mom, he saw it too, sharing a look with Kiara, something that said ‘you’re uncomfortable too, right?’ Kiara purses her lips to stop the guilty smile creeping on her face. 

“It’s been a while.” Anna said, in a voice that Kiara knew all too well, one that she used when completely unsure of what to say, obviously improvising along. She glances down at Kiara for a moment, “You should’ve told me John B was a Routledge!” She lightly brushes Kiara’s arm, as if doing so would’ve cleared up so many things. Kiara isn’t completely certain on what her mother meant, responding with another shy smile and trying to play along best she could with the awkwardness of it all. Big John clears his throat, breaking the sudden tension. 

“Yeah, time flies, you know… How’s Mike?”

Anna raises a dismissive hand. “He’s great. Yeah, with The Wreck, things are good. How’s Grace, by the way? Is she here?” Anna peers at the house, as if expecting someone to just walk out. Kiara guesses Grace is John B’s mom, and for a moment, looks around herself, wanting to meet the woman. Instead she notices John B lose what little interest he seemed to be holding with the two parents, studying the ground with what looked like discomfort. 

“Uh, she’s not around anymore, actually.” Big John admits, looking a little shamed as he too seems to disconnect from the conversation. Kiara more or less hears her mother give some sort of apology, but she’s already stepping away from her, deciding this was a good time to leave the adults to talk and sneak away. John B picks up on this immediately, subtly gesturing her to the house. 

He pulls the screen door open, letting her walk past before letting it loudly clap shut, shuffling past her and lazily pointing to random spots throughout the rooms they were passing through. 

“This is the living room area thing, kitchen, doesn’t really matter, everything’s a mess, there’s the bathroom,” he mumbled casually, not really seeing as to whether or not she was paying attention. Everything about the house felt lived in in the best way. There were a few dirty dishes here and there, pillows and blankets thrown about the living room as though someone had been sleeping on the pull out, along with a pile of sandals by the door. Books were scattered around, some flipped open and some closed with bookmarks tucking in the pages. Kiara’s eyes observed every inch of the place they could, noticing the walls had a couple of frames hanging unevenly, holding photographs of what looked like John B and his dad at various places, John B at different ages. 

Sometimes Kiara’s house was too clean for her liking, everything having a specific order to it. She wasn’t a messy person, exactly, but she never cared to keep her room looking like the rest of the house. Things could be found when she needed them and in her eyes, that was clean enough for her. Walking through John B’s house made her feel relaxed, like she wouldn’t feel bad for dirtying a dish or leaving a blanket unfolded, the way she felt every other time she went over to someone’s house over the years of her mother trying to encourage her to make friends. It was nice. 

John B took her all the way through the house to the back, where an assortment of… things were found. Wicker furniture, lanterns and old looking bottles were sitting around, making it look like a mix between a junkyard and a museum and it was somewhat fascinating. Numerous tackle boxes and propellers sat on the old metal and glass tables, along with piles of rope and broken wind chimes. A few overturned fishing boats lay under the enormous trees surrounding the property making them look washed up and forgotten, abandoned. 

John B finally turns to look at her, dropping down in a parachute of a hammock hanging between two particularly thick trees, causing it to swing under his weight. He swung a couple of times before gesturing back at the house. 

“Sorry about that.”

She finally snaps out of her short-lived trance, looking between him and the house. 

“About what?”

He pats the spot next to him as he speaks, noticing that she was still awkwardly standing around. 

“Remember, uh, family problems?” 

She studies his face for a moment, putting two and two together, then remembers counseling. She nods as he pulls the bandana from his wrist so it’s twisted around his fingers, his face looking contemplative as he glanced out at the water. He doesn’t seem too dejected, but for some reason she feels the need to reassure him. 

“Ah, it’s fine. My mom, she’s the nosy one. As annoying as it is.” she says it lightly, dismissive. She lets out a breathy laugh, “Dude, I did not expect for them to know each other, I think that’s what made it so awkward.” 

He looks over at her, eyebrows raised. “Are you kidding? Awkward’s an understatement, if you ask me.” 

“At least your dad seems nice.” she half giggles out, remembering the way the man seemed to struggle to keep conversation. John B hesitates for a minute before shrugging, running his bandana tied hand through his messy hair. 

“Yeah, he’s alright.” 

She tries to decipher whether there was sarcasm or not, trying to understand if she was crossing a line when all of a sudden two other voices interrupt her thoughts. Both of them turn to see the source. 

Two boys, around her age, are playfully shoving at each other as they walk over, seeming too distracted in their banter to notice Kiara sitting beside John B. One of the boys has a green pair of swim shorts on and a bright smile, one that seems to morph into a shy grin when his dark eyes land on her. He holds his arms up to block the push from the other boy, who has a ball cap sitting backwards on his blond head, red across his cheeks and nose and arms and Kiara has to stop herself from staring because it apparently hits her the exact second it hits him. 

The boy from the beach. 

John B jumps up, wrapping an arm around the boy with black hair and lazily pulling him into his side, eyes darting between the two of them. 

“What’s up, boys? How we doin’- “

“What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Both John B and the boy at his side jerk their heads to the boy from the beach, looking baffled. Kiara just stands, not really meaning to but staring at the boy from the beach, not knowing how to feel, not being able to hold back the flinch at his swear. No one her age swore around her before. He stared back for a moment before turning his whole body to John B’s, who looked offended, dropping his arm from the other boy. 

“JJ, what they hell, man- “

“This the chick you invited over?”

“Yeah, what’s your prob- “

“That’s great, you’re dragging in Kooks, now- “ 

“JJ!” This time the boy with the black hair snaps at the boy from the beach, JJ, looking over at Kiara apologetically. Kiara’s been called worse but something about _Kook_ stings a little more than most. She reaches a hand up to her necklaces as she averts her eyes from the boys to the water, biting her lip. She had absolutely no beef with JJ but somehow their painfully new relationship already lacked a clean slate and she didn’t really know what to say, assuming anything she did say would only upset him more. He seemed like the grudge holding type and the day at the beach didn’t help her case. For a moment, she let herself believe he didn’t remember it. 

JJ scoffs and out of the corner of her eye, Kiara could see him eyeing her, as if questioning her audacity. It annoyed her. A lot. 

“I’m Kiara, by the way.” She kept her voice level, needing to remind herself she wasn;t being put on trial, despite her brain telling her otherwise. “And I’m not a Kook, I just wanna surf. With you guys.” She wanted to add that John B hadn’t _dragged her in_ but gave it the benefit of the doubt in assuming that it didn't need clarification. 

“I’m sorry, what the hell is this about, dude? Seriously- “ John B gave JJ a warning look, as though to say ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ and for once JJ stays silent. He looks too exasperated to make it known that the girl that his best friend just invited into their circle has parents who find people like him as the scum of the Earth.

“Let’s just go catch some waves before we lose sunlight. Alright?” John B says in a mediating voice Kiara is now oddly familiar with. 

“Fine. But it’s your loss when she dips for you not having a rich enough name- “

“Is this about the other day? About what my dad said- “ she interrupts, wanting to clear the air more than anything, feeling immensely guilty even though she had no part in her father’s words. Some part of her hurt at seeing JJ glare at the ground, not knowing it was just a worthless comment that meant nothing if he didn’t want it to. She takes his stubborn silence as an answer, ignoring John B blurt out “You met her dad?” 

“You stole my beach.” Is all JJ manages, crossing his arms and looking at her annoyed. Kiara sputters, now feeding off of the annoyance between the two.

“I’m confused, _your_ beach?”

“Yeah, _my_ beach, the one _I_ go to when I wanna be by myself, not having people nag me like you’re doing right now- “ 

“Okay, stop. For real, guys, just chill.” John B holds out an arm that both JJ and Kiara jerk away from. JJ turns for the house, leading to John B rolling his eyes and following the boy. Kiara holds back a sigh, one of defeat or irritation, she’s not sure yet. 

“Do you guys know each other?” The boy with the black hair asks shyly, tearing her focus away from John B jogging after JJ and putting it on him. He stood awkwardly yet it somehow felt natural, making her not so aware of her own stance and relaxing. She shakes her head. 

“Barely. Not at all, actually, we just sorta ran into each other at the beach…" she trails off, suddenly wondering if she was in the wrong in just being there, thinking of whether she was seeing things right. The boy doesn’t seem to mind. 

“He’ll get over it, don’t worry. He’s got really thick skin, believe it or not,” _So the comment must’ve really hit home_ , she thinks guiltily, “Trust me, he’ll find something else to be upset about in no time whatsoever. Like, it’s pretty much a talent, at this point. He doesn’t complain, necessarily, he just gets moody and ignores people, ya know, specifically us until he decides he’s brodded long enough, I suppose- “ 

Kiara lets out a chuckle at his rambling, noticing the way he never really met her eyes but continued to mumble through the silence, with heavy observation in his voice, as if he were reciting a protagonist's arch in a book report. He stops, glancing at her, almost nervously, giving a small laugh. Then he reaches out his hand, shaking his head as if he’s forgotten something. 

“Um, I’m Pope. And… Kiara, right?” 

She returns the gesture, nodding happily, her worries slipping away at the ease in his face. Pope cleared his throat, nodding towards the water. 

“So you surf?” 

“Uh, yeah,” She follows him as he slowly starts walking towards the house, lowering her voice, “but between you and me, I haven’t really spent that much time on the water, lately. I’ve only just started practicing again.” 

He turns to look at her as a grin spreads across his face, making her chuckle. 

“Dude, me either! I mean, I've been practicing with JB as much as I can but I’m not really great at it yet. And my dad’s been keeping me busy, and on top of school, sometimes it’s hard to find the time- “ 

Pope led her right back to the living room where John B and JJ were lounging on the couch. JJ’s lazily hanging upside down from the cushions, face turning red and ball cap fallen onto the floor under his head. He rolls his eyes when he sees Kiara. John B interrupts, almost in a whine, giving a disgusted look at Popes way. 

“Ew. Why’re you talking about school, Pope? It’s the weekend.” 

“Yeah, c’mon, bro, leave that shit at the door.” JJ throws his arm towards the screen door. Pope looks down between the two of them, looking like a parent deprecatingly observing their children, crossing his arms. 

“Contrary to popular belief, and by that I mean literally just your guys beliefs, there’s not a rule against mentioning school on the weekends- “ John B let’s out a pfft while Pope pathetically dodges JJ’s poorly thrown ball cap, watching it land a few inches to the left from JJ being so disoriented. “Plus, even if it wasn’t the weekend, you still don’t let me talk about it and you guys don’t even go the full five days anyways!” Popes voice cracks at the last word, making Kiara barely stifle a giggle. 

“Who says you have to?” JJ gives Pope a pointed look, as if he’s really onto something and Kiara can’t help but feel as though this isn’t the first time they’ve all had this conversation. Pope shakes his head around, as if perplexed by his surroundings. 

“The law?!” 

JJ gives a sound of dismissal, slowly sliding off the couch. “Never met him. Sounds kinda full of himself, don’t ya think?” 

  
“I’d say.” John B murmurs, sticking out a leg from his slouched position to stop JJ’s knee from hitting the coffee table, glancing at Kiara. 

“Kiara, do you hate school?”

Over the years, school has become a breeding ground for most of Kiara’s problems. Some days it was a test of her tolerance of just how many group projects she could do in one week until the teachers accepted the fact that some people just don’t get along, while other days it was guessing at how many books she would have to read until she felt comfortable reading in front of the class. She didn’t hate learning at all, but school was hardly ever just about learning, so maybe she did hate it. 

She casually pulls out a stool to sit on, assuming they were all waiting for John B’s dad for a ride to the beach. 

“Only on days that end in 'Y'”

John B nods approvingly. “Ditto.”

“Oh I can’t handle three of them.” Pope says to no one in particular. JJ pushes himself up from the floor, straightening out his shirt as he picks up his hat and pats Pope on the shoulder before swinging open the front screen door. 

“Don’t worry, bro, there won’t be three for much longer- “

“JJ, shut up.” John B calls after him, but with little heat, as though he’s already accepted his friend's behavior. Kiara just stares at the screen door, feeling an odd mix of hurt and satisfaction. It was interesting to have someone who was so upfront about their opinions, so unwilling to hold back even if it meant being judged or scorned and even if he was being obnoxious about it, for half a second Kiara decides she likes it. It wasn’t passive aggressiveness, which she’s had enough experience with for a lifetime to know she absolutely despised it, and it wasn’t outright violent. It was somewhere in the middle, somewhere where he’s made his stance clear, so now she knows where to go from here to patch things up, ignoring the fact that he might be just as stubborn as her. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather spend your day with a bunch of kids from- “ He quickly uncrosses his arms and does exaggerated air quotes, “‘the wrong side of town’ when you could be literally anywhere else! With kids who get allowances and don’t have to worry about rent or food or if they’ll make it through school or not because they’re already getting scholarships to wherever the fuck they go after leaving their sorry excuse for half of the island. It’s so fake! It’s so fake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a roller coaster as far as emotions go. Thanks to JIARAISENDGAME for helping me with some dialogue inspiration!

At first it was nice. At first, she was giddy with excitement at getting to surf again, embracing the itch that she had been getting lately when she was cooped inside doing homework or chores. It was early, leaving the sun more forgiving as the four of them finally made it to the beach. It was a different stretch of shore than the one she had been practicing on - _JJ’s_ beach, supposedly - which was less secluded and more open. It was nearly perfect at first, but as the day progressed, she was becoming less and less in control of her nerve and it only frustrated her. JJ was relentless, turns out, and would not let her forget it. 

No matter what she did, Pope seemed to have a compliment ready to give her every time, smiling encouragingly as he sat up on his board, squinting against the sun. John B seemed more interested in helping her with her form and maneuvers, shouting out helpful critiques whenever she struggled or fell short. She had no problem taking the advice mostly because he seemed almost on the same boat as he was, as far as skill and ability. He wasn’t as bad as Pope, whom she saw shared her level of experience the most, maybe due to their mutual excuse of not having enough time to practice as often as John B or JJ did. It was humbling and made her feel less alone and out of her element. 

JJ was either quiet and keeping to himself or the complete opposite and Kiara had almost had enough. Unlike John B’s comments, JJ’s weren’t helpful or considerate or even vaguely thought out, but crude and harsh and she knew exactly what he was doing. First, it was how she was just ‘experimenting’ with them, trying to see what it was like to surf with people that didn’t ‘annually go out on yachts or some shit like that’. Then it was, ‘how is she not getting any waves, with nothing to do all day besides tan and literally nothing else, she should know how to surf, if she really wanted to’. _Right_ , Kiara thought bitterly after overhearing the poke, _because so-called Kooks have nothing better to do than tan and ‘literally nothing else’_. Even she didn’t think that low of them, for once. 

“You have _loads_ of shit to deal with that keeps you from surfing, don’t you?” he had lazily asked her, making her question whether it physically hurt him to use that much sarcasm, drawing out the ‘loads’. She ignores him, which probably only annoys her more than him, if she’s being completely honest. He seemed to make it his personal mission to cut her off whenever he could and steal her waves whenever she started paddling out. _Maybe that’s why I’m not getting any waves, JJ_ she humors herself. All morning, she had put up blinders, pretending like he wasn’t even there at times and ignoring his blunt quips and obnoxious surfing etiquette. If he hoped that knocking her down would scare her off then she had no problem putting all her energy towards figuratively planting her feet and having fun. 

As the morning continued, she came upon the maddening realization that what probably annoyed her the most had to do with his actual surfing and how hard it was to stop _staring_. Whenever he wasn’t cutting her off, no matter how many times she consciously pulled her eyes away, she inevitably found them drifting back to him, watching, observing, admiring. It was like watching a figure skater dance on top of the ice, effortlessly and like they’d rather be nowhere else in the world. 

John B was demonstrating a move to her as she sat off to the side, dragging her hands across the waters surface when she heard JJ mumble something to Pope, making her force herself to not turn towards him and give him the satisfaction. 

“It’s funny, no matter how much Kooks spend on their toys, they don’t really use ‘em, like they’re just for show. Like, I’ve never seen a Kook actually water ski or wakeboard even though their boats are more expensive than most houses.” 

Kiara rolls her eyes hard, biting her tongue, trying not to count the times he’s said the word ‘Kook’. Pope mutters something about the cost of housing that she doesn’t care to hear. 

“Scuba diving is a Kook sport, isn’t it?” Pope asks, almost in an effort to switch the subject from accusatory to inquisitive, clearly trying not to take sides. 

“Hell if I know. I’m just sayin’, it’s like they’d rather brag about shit than actually use it.” 

Kiara lowers herself onto her stomach and starts paddling away, shaking her head. She should be angry at him for making this many ridiculous attempts just to jab at her - annoyed, she could say for certain was something she felt passionately, however - but she also finds herself agreeing with him wholeheartedly, without considering the fact he’s straight up trying to get rid of her. Maybe that’s why it was becoming a little difficult to breathe, the irony of it all. It’s hypocritical to be mad, right? This brings a whole new wave of distress and vex, freely coursing through her. She couldn’t be mad at him for thinking the exact same way she did, it was just wrong. She wanted to so badly but couldn’t. As shockingly painful as it was to admit. 

She’s about to join up with John B, hoping for a distraction, when JJ makes his annoying little voice heard once again. 

“She probably doesn’t even wanna surf, she’s just here to show off her board.”

This time, Kiara stops paddling and turns to look at him. She shoots daggers at his back as he’s already making his way towards the beach, completely unaware that he finally has her attention. Pope looks as though about to stop her but decides against it, scratching the back of his head nervously as John B starts swimming over to him. 

If he wasn’t going to let it go then maybe she shouldn’t either, a stubborn part of her convinces herself as her feet reach the hot sand. She untethers herself from her board and jogs after him. 

“JJ! Wait!” 

He glances over his shoulder and shakes his head, not slowing in the slightest. She meets him at his side thankfully causing him to stop and drop his board, crossing his arms. The boy she saw on the beach a few days ago was gone, no cheeky smirks or playful eyes, the sunburn on his cheeks only adding to the exasperation on his face. He raises his eyebrows impatiently, finally giving her the time of day. 

“What’s your problem?” she asks, wishing it didn’t sound so winded. 

He scoffs, as if expecting anything but for her to call him out. She holds back a groan of frustration at his words. 

“I think you know exactly what my problem is.” 

“Humor me, then. Because if this is about the other day- “

He laughs, actually laughs, which only makes the heat in her cheeks literally sting. 

“You know, usually when people shit talk about me they have the decency to do it to my face, but of course a Kook- “ 

“Stop saying that!” Her hands are shaking so she puts them on her hips, trying to sound as unaffected as possible, but forcing emphasis behind her words. “Look, I’m sorry for what my dad said, alright? But he said it, not me. And as much as it was just some stupid comment, you can’t keep holding it against me like some sort of grudge- “ 

“You seem so sure.” 

“You can’t judge someone for what their parents did, it’s not fair, dude!” 

He doesn’t answer at first, looking distracted with something she said so she goes on, a little gentler. 

“Plus, I don’t even know why he said it, he’s from around here anyways…” 

She searches his face for any sign of understanding, any form of give, not caring that it led to her practically staring him down. The gears in his head seemed to be turning in a way that rendered him speechless, whether he liked it or not. After a moment, she assumes he doesn’t like it, not having an immediate comeback to spit at her, as his next words are cold and distant. 

“How different could you be? From your parents?” 

Now it’s her turn to go quiet, wanting to see where his mind had taken him in his own contemplation, because now his tone still held bitterness, but also a sense of reasoning, like he was trying to convince… someone. Whether it was her or himself, she wasn’t sure. A drop of water falls from her hair, tickling her neck and trailing down her arm making her rub at it frustratedly, looking between the water and him. He shakes his own wet head, absently running a hand through his soaking hair. 

“I mean, you can act like you aren’t one of _them_ all day long, but it’s who you go home to, is it not? You might wish you didn’t but it’s kinda who you are- “ 

She blinks rapidly, holding her hands out as if this whole topic just suddenly became too overwhelming. “That is so not true- “

“Isn’t it?” his voice raises, making her flinch. She disguises it with rubbing another trail of water on her neck, this time a little too aggressively as he continues, sounding as pissed as ever. 

“You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather spend your day with a bunch of kids from- “ He quickly uncrosses his arms and does exaggerated air quotes, “‘the wrong side of town’ when you could be literally anywhere else! With kids who get allowances and don’t have to worry about rent or food or if they’ll make it through school or not because they’re already getting scholarships to wherever the fuck they go after leaving their sorry excuse for half of the island. It’s so fake! It’s _so_ fake.” he prolongs the ‘so’, making her swallow down the impulse to do and say anything to make him stop. 

She scoffs, rubbing her nose irritatedly. “God, you are so shallow.’ 

“Oh, am I?” 

If he was shallow, what did that make her? With all their apparent shared beliefs and opinions and the fact that she hears herself in his words and they’re basically replicas of each other and she wants to ignore it, wants to turn and walk away, to never have to hear someone call her fake ever again but that wouldn’t be standing up for herself and that’s what she has to do, right? Stand up for herself because apparently she cares what this random boy thought of her? Wanted him to have a decent opinion of her because why, again? Because she could deny her fate all she wanted but if someone she barely knew, someone who barely knew her, someone who didn’t seem even the slightest bit inclined to walk in her shoes before claiming to have it all mapped out, saw her as what she herself would call a Kook, then… then what? 

It felt degrading, her mind finally places the feeling. To have someone assume so much with knowing so little. To watch a stranger make so many presumptions about her without hesitating, without thinking there _has_ to be more to her, right? Her throat suddenly aches, pulling her from her thoughts as she swallows hard, meeting his impatient blue eyes. 

“Yeah, you are. You know, not everyone can make good enough friends like you can. Do you get that? You just think I must be surrounded by people because, what? Because my parents make a lot of money? Because I don’t have to worry about paying for stuff?” 

He starts to interrupt but she goes on, drowning out his voice before it goes silent again. “It’s not at all like that so don’t try to pretend you know, don’t sit there and act like you got it all figured out because you just don’t! And I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I want to be here. I want to be around John B and Pope and maybe even you if you ever plan on getting off your high horse so just know I’m not gonna sit here and prove myself to you.” 

Before she really realizes it, she’s storming off, walking away from him before she says something she’ll regret or something that overly derives from the way hearing the word ‘fake’ made her feel. He doesn’t follow her and she doesn’t spend the time wondering if she prefers it that way, not even bothering with looking over her shoulder. 

\---

John B and Pope had stared and only when they saw her approaching did they look away, acting casual while they swiveled around in their spots in the sand. Even hours later as they sat around an old fire pit near the beach, they had yet to mention JJ’s absence and all Kiara could do is accept the fact that maybe he really did hate her. 

Hate was a strong word, one she never really used on the regular and and tried not to take people too seriously when they used it themselves. After her grandmother had overheard her use it - probably during one of her rants about school and their lack of decent clubs revolving around water pollution - Kiara hadn’t thought of the word the same since. It was the only word at the time she could think of that seemed to express what she was feeling but apparently it was a mistake. Her grandmother had scolded her, telling her she wasn’t old enough to know what hate felt like or know what it meant. Despite looking back on it and still thinking it was one of the things older people say to younger people just because they can, she still wonders when it was a so-called acceptable age to feel genuine hatred. What was the magic age when once you reached it, the emotion was suddenly available in your vocabulary? 

Okay, so maybe he didn’t hate her. In her head, he seemed pretty resentful. Colossally, even. After their argument, JJ left the beach, board in hand and all and didn’t come back, didn’t wait for Big John to pick them up and didn’t say goodbye to Pope or John B and that’s when Kiara felt a little guilty. She imagined that by letting off steam, maybe they would both find a way to coexist without feeling threatened by the others presence but apparently the thought was too optimistic for the circumstances. Turning their exchange over and over in her head as they waited for Big John, she tried to take Pope's advice. _He’ll get over it_. He had said it as if well versed with JJ’s behavior. _He’s got very thick skin_. 

John B seemed even more familiar with JJ, talking about him like they were brothers, reassuring her without a doubt that it would blow over. Only then did she consider that maybe JJ hating her was a concept that existed strictly in her head and maybe it was all too fresh to make any sort of accurate judgement. Honestly, despite still feeling a little pissed off at him herself, she hoped it were true. 

Big John had picked them up a little after noon, announcing he was going to swing by the store to buy ingredients for subs. John B immediately lit up at the idea and apparently subs were a rare but favored treat in the Routledges because Pope too turned giddy at the mere mention. Kiara places her towel on the backseat of the truck, wishing she had brought an extra pair of bottoms to switch out of the damp board shorts she currently had on, and eyes the boys suspiciously. 

John B returns the look, as if she’s the one that’s dancing in her seat over a sandwich. 

“What’s the look for?”

She raises her eyebrows, glancing at Pope as a small smile crosses her face. “What’s the dancing for?”

“Have you never had a good sub before?” Pope asks incredulously. She shrugs, assuming there’s more to the explanation as he continues to do a little shimmy in his seat beside her. John B holds a hand out to her, patting his dad's shoulder from where he sat behind the driver's seat with his other hand. 

“My dad makes the best, and I mean the best, subs.”

“The best.” Pope mimics, shaking his head as if in some sort of disbelief. 

“You have not lived until you’ve eaten a Routledge sub- “

“Is that what you’re callin’ it now?” Big John mutters distractedly, cautiously driving through the parking lot that was swarming with people. John B ignores him, enthusiastically describing his ideal sub, using hand gestures to illustrate the invisible sandwich in front of him. 

“Cheese and meat at the bottom, no negotiations, then onion, lettuce, maybe some pepperoni and then tomatoes. Then the actual magic happens with the vinegar- “

Pope pulls a face, grunting in disgust. 

“How can you stand that stuff?”

“How can you not?” Kiara asks at the same time as John B, making them giggle. Pope shakes his head. 

“But the smell- “

“It doesn’t matter what it smells like, Pope- ‘

“Yes it does, actually! Smell and taste are very closely related and if I don’t like the smell of something, how am I supposed to enjoy swallowing it?” 

As soon as Big John finally parks, John B hops out on his side while Pope follows Kiara out through the other, both of them sharing an eye roll at John B’s muffled ramblings. 

Throughout the entire store, Kiara has to keep stifling her laughs from the dirty looks. John B was loud and handsy with the products on the shelves, constantly picking them up and cracking stupid jokes with them. Big John didn’t appear to want to claim him as his responsibility as he pushed the cart around, occasionally taking an item from the shelf to read the label and only nodding his head in a greeting when customers and employees would glare between him and John B. 

They were passing through the salad dressings when John B dramatically swipes a bottle of olive oil from the shelf, dropping to one knee in front of Pope as if proposing. Kiara tries to hide a snort that makes John B struggle for composure. 

“‘Olive’ you, Pope. I really do.”

Popes cheeks go pink as he glances around shyly, taking the bottle from John B and pulling him up from the floor. 

“Dude, stop.” He shuffles over to the cart and places the bottle on top of the rest of their groceries. 

“Uh oh, runaway bride on the loose.” John B mumbles innocently, making Pope cross his arms, giving his friend a look that screamed ‘really?’. John B grabs a small bottle of seasoning, tossing it to Pope who only barely catches it. 

“Better luck next ‘thyme’, I guess.” 

“John B!” Pope hisses out, glancing at Kiara and desperately trying to hide a smile. “If we’re not buying it, don’t touch it, people are staring at you- “

Pope nonchalantly gestures to a woman stocking shelves a few feet away who keeps giving them looks. John B shrugs, catching up with his dad past the freezer section. Kiara feels a shiver run down her spine from the drop in temperature, her damp shorts and top sending goosebumps over her arms and legs. Walking through the produce section, John B grabs the scooper for the peppers excitedly and Pope lets out a long exhale, already knowing what's coming. 

“Well maybe she’s ‘jalepeño’ business, not mine- “ He barely makes it through before all seriousness leaves his voice and his face falls into Popes shoulder, his chuckling only half suppressed by the other boy's shirt. Pope gives Kiara a look, mouthing ‘help me’. 

Kiara wheezes when Big John obliviously asks John B if he wants some peppers, pursing her lips as she looks around the fruits and vegetables. Leaning over a bin, she scoops up a bag of fruit, holding it up to Pope. 

“C’mon, Pope, ‘orange’ you glad you’re shopping with us?” 

John B immediately spins around towards her, glancing at the bag and holds up a hand approvingly. She smacks it, trying not to feel too judged by the surrounding customers. 

“I’m actually never shopping with you guys again.” Pope deadpans. John B hesitantly snags the box of Cheerios from the cart, holding it as if showcasing some sort of prize. 

“Cheer… up, Pope…” They all go silent as John B drops the box back in the cart, shaking his head dejectedly. 

“That’s not quite…” Kiara starts, as if breaking the news. 

“Even I know that was bad.” Pope mumbles.

“I’ve done better, I’ll admit.” John B agrees, acting overly disappointed. Kiara pats him on the shoulder. 

“It’s okay, you’ll bounce back- “

“Don’t encourage him, Kiara!” Pope shouts as loudly as he’s comfortable with in the store full of people, throwing his hands up. “You’re just as bad as JJ.” 

Despite the sourness that filled her mouth at the reminder, she laughs anyways, giving a ‘what can you do’ shrug. John B plays along too, shoving Pope while muttering something about how he can encourage himself, thank you very much.

\---

By the time they make it back to the Chateau, the sun has peaked and is starting to set, casting a warm breeze through the air that signifies the temperature is no longer rising. Earlier, every aspect of the house seemed welcoming, with the natural morning light spilling through the windows, hitting the worn out space and making it look relaxed. But apparently the later it became, the more homey it felt, Kiara noted as she worked at her sub. The blinds were still open, revealing the rich warm shades from the sunset, almost like the outside itself was on display through the panels of glass. Pieces of art, Kiara thought to herself, observing the way the light slowly and patiently diminished over the horizon, like it was slipping into the water for the night. 

After Big John had unloaded the bags of groceries, he asked Kiara what she liked on her subs, which in turn acted as an introduction for the boys to vegetarians. Or mainly just John B. Pope already seemed aware of what it meant and Kiara would’ve been lying if she said she’d expected it any other way. 

Pope was shy, not nearly as outspoken as John B or JJ and usually keeping to himself if he had the choice. Pope was observant, Kiara could see, just by the way he reacted to things she’d say, like not being surprised about her being a vegetarian because she’d already told him how much it upset her that people didn’t pay nearly enough attention to how the food actually gets to the table. And Pope was interesting. She found herself laughing at his jokes, ones that John B seemed to turn a blind eye to because their humor wasn’t always at the same level and Kiara could appreciate that. From what little she’s heard from JJ and John B, Popes humor is far less dirty and far more sophisticated for someone his age and Kiara liked it. He was less fidgety and outwardly more attentive, always quick with a response because it’s like he’s always listening. She brushes the crumbs from her hands over her plate before leaning back on the couch, watching the two boys indulge in their own unfinished subs. 

“I think you were right, John B.” she says, sounding impressed. He stops stuffing his face for half a second to look at her. 

“I’ve finally lived.” She holds her arms out in a grand gesture to her now empty plate, nodding satisfied. 

“Even without roast beef or turkey- " Big John lazily nudges John B’s knee with his foot from where he’s sitting on the couch beside him, looking down at his son sitting cross legged on the floor. 

“She can eat whatever she wants and doesn’t want, Bird, it’s not wrong.”

“What I meant- “ 

John B takes a long minute to fully swallow his bite, taking his precious time in holding up a hand for them to wait to hear what he has to say. Pope rolls his eyes at his friend's dramatics, continuing with his own sub. 

“What I meant,” he repeats, “is that maybe I should try the vegetarian version of the Roughtledge sub. See how it compares. Who knows, maybe I’ll go completely vegetarian and only eat green mushy foods for the rest of my life.” 

Kiara squints in a humored manor, scrunching her nose at him. “That’s not all vegetarians eat, you weirdo. There’s variety and it’s not even all green.” 

John B motions with his chunk of bread and meat towards Kiara’s plate. “Well something green and mushy made up the majority of your sub, so I’m just filling in the blanks, here- “

“Avocados aren’t vegetarian exclusive foods, dude.” Pope comments. John B suddenly looks intrigued, looking at Kiara curiously. 

“Wait, do you guys actually have vegetarian exclusive foods, ‘cause that would be sweet- “

“How are you not grasping the concept of this?” she chuckles, looking over at Big John for answers. He only shakes his head and shrugs while giving a low laugh, as if to say ‘I haven’t been able to figure him out either’. 

She runs a hand through her stiff and tangled curls, forcing her chuckles to subside. 

“I wish we had subs at our restaurant.”

“Your family owns a restaurant?” John B asks before shoving the rest of his sub in his mouth greedily. 

“She already mentioned her family owns The Wreck.” Pope mumbles distractedly. Yes, Pope was very observant. 

“Has your dad started putting you to work yet?” Big John asks her, peering at her over his glasses. 

“Yeah, actually, at the beginning of the summer. He’s always taught me how to cook and stuff like that, but a couple of months ago he asked if I would want to start helping out there and I thought it’d be nice to have some experience. Even if it is bussing tables and cleaning up after whiny Kooks.” She adds the last part a little shyly, not knowing why she felt as though it’d offend them. No one seems to mind, though, even Big John, who just chuckles lowly at the comment. 

She notices Pope nodding thoughtfully before clearing his throat. 

“That’s a good idea. My dad asked me the same thing. Well, he didn’t really ask me, just said that it’d look good on college admission resumes and help me get scholarships and such.” 

“Good for you, Pope. Your old man’s lookin’ out for you, you know.” Big John said this as if it’s been a topic they discussed often and Kiara wanted in. 

“Oh, of course, but… I don’t know.” Pope falters, deflecting by busying himself with the rest of his sandwich. Kiara eyes John B who gives her a subtle gesture that she knows is his way of saying ‘don’t worry about it’. She looks away, feeling as though intruding on something that’s none of her business. Big John finally stands, gathering the empty plates. 

“You won’t see it now, kiddo, but workin’ hard now will pay off later down the road. ‘Specially for a kid like you.” Big John leans down and squeezes Popes shoulder fondly before walking to the kitchen and dumping the plates in the sink, causing a loud _clank_. 

Kiara let’s the words settle over her and decides she likes Big John too. A little distant, sometimes, but he means well, she thinks. In that moment, she realizes she is going to work hard now and not walk away from the boys. Not lose interest in the way she did with so many people - that is, if they hadn’t lost it first. She’s willingly given up on friendships before, stopped putting in the effort because they were never quite as genuine as she wanted or thought she deserved. Most had ill intentions and the very thought brings her back to her argument with JJ, how she tried to make him realize how lucky he was to have people like John B and Pope in his life. It probably wasn’t something he needed to hear, maybe she was just justifying why she had no one. Trying to convince herself it was okay to be alone if it meant not having people who fed her pretty lies in her life. 

Thinking of a life where that didn’t have to be the case was comforting. 

When her mom finally arrives to pick her up, Kiara doesn’t really want to leave. She wants to continue talking about nonsense and keep learning about the two boys in front of her. Instead, John B offers to carry her board to the car as she’s leaving. Right before stepping out of the house, she hears her mom make more small talk with John B’s dad, hearing him mention something about ‘I even fed her, Anna, no, don’t worry, she seemed to have fun’.

She stares at the sharp gravel under her foam flip flops as John B hauls her board in the car. He turns to her and leans against the back of the vehicle, gesturing towards the house. 

“No offence, but I just don’t see your mom as the kind of person to let her only daughter hang out with three boys she doesn’t know. It’s honestly beyond me.” 

“Oh trust me,” Kiara dismisses, lowering her voice, “it wasn’t easy. I had to use the counseling card.”

John B’s jaw drops animatedly making her nod further, as if she just confessed something much bigger than the half fib she just shared. He draws out her name to inflict mock guilt, making her cross her arms proudly. 

“I know, I know, I couldn’t think of anything else, I was desperate!” she chortles. He finally nods, as if forgiving her for her methods of manipulation. 

“Well, I hope the good ‘ole counseling card paid off.” He starts backwards walking towards his house as she makes her way to the passenger seat. She bobs her head in response, waving at Pope through the windows and returning John B’s peace sign gesture. 

As they’re driving away, her mom seems uninspired about the whole ordeal, but Kiara just smiles out of her window. 

“Did you have fun?” she asks, likely unable to sound any less enthusiastic. 

“Mhmm.” she replies, happily letting the slight sunburn on her legs and shoulders remind her of the day's events.

\---

It was Sunday and Sundays meant barbecues and barbecues meant boredom. It was a classic equation in Kiara’s life by now and she wasn’t too eager to dwell on that fact, as it only made the gatherings that much worse. Insufferable is a word she would confidently use.

Blood relatives shouldn’t shame blood relatives on their choices of spouses but barbecues always seemed to bury that notion six feet under and Kiara just couldn’t bring herself to listen, so she stayed in the back. Somewhere where she could still say she was there if her mother were to ask - which she most certainly would - but simultaneously stay out harm's way. Harm's way being the back and forth line of fire that is the gossip of her mother’s relatives. Without ever being asked, they apparently constantly had the itch to place themselves in business that was in no way ever theirs, usually having to do with Kiara’s father.

She never knew ignoring people could suck so much energy out of her but as Monday morning rolled around, she accepted the consequences, feeling purely exhausted the second she woke up. School never helped but looking forward to finally having someone to sit with at lunch lifted her spirits. 

John B sits across from her, beside JJ, and Pope sits next to her. The expected reluctance is nowhere to be seen from JJ and she can’t help but see it as progress. She sees it as a ‘maybe things will work out’ and ‘maybe I’m not in the wrong by hanging out with these three boys’. Granted, she doesn’t hear a word from him all lunch period or the entire two other hours she has classes with him. Trying to push her insecurity down proves to take a lot of her focus, however, this becomes apparent when she’s outwardly unable to answer when the teacher calls on her and when she fails to remember to write down the assigned homework. 

Last minute, she decides to take a chance and test the waters. She quickly scans the hallway before spotting him digging through a locker. She pushes her way over and squats down to get his attention. 

“Hey, JJ, uh, I forgot to write down the homework- “ _because I was too busy thinking about how I’m intruding on your friend group and how worthless you must feel-_

“I didn’t get it.” He glances at her before standing, slamming his locker shut and walking away. 

She closes her eyes in frustration, sitting on her knees for a second longer before pushing herself up and walking to her next class. 

Right when she thinks she’s done - excused for the day to her bed where she can wrap herself up in blankets and maybe just have a good cry - her dad reminds her she was supposed to help at The Wreck. Promised to, even, something she conveniently forgot until he was driving her away from the school and turning left instead of right. To The Wreck instead of home. 

She rubs her eyes, looking for patience as she sheds her backpack to the floor of the break room, throwing her hair up on top of her head and pulling an apron on. 

A few hours go by relatively seamlessly and she’s grateful to say the least. She doesn’t serve customers yet, just follows behind the waiter and waitress that does and cleans any mess left behind. First it’s wiping down the counters, relieving them of ketchup stains and grease splatters, then it’s collecting unneeded cups and dishes from the tables scattered throughout the little restaurant. It’s mindless and easy, giving her hope she might get the chance to start and finish her assigned reading in the break room and not have to take it home. She loved when she got all of her homework down before even getting home, not only did it give her a break but it made her feel proactive and she could use a little mental positivity at the moment. 

“Hey, waitress lady! Is anyone actually working in this dump?” 

Kiara was finishing up with sweeping under the tables when she heard the distasteful question. She bites her lip and urges herself to just ignore it but apparently she’s all out of patience. 

She turns and spots a table full of… Kooks. And some tourists. Kids who probably got extra cash from their parents and decided they wanted to blow it at the cash cow that was The Wreck. Kiara inwardly groans. 

“If you think it’s a dump, why are you even eating her? There are plenty of other places to spend your little allowances at.” 

One of the Kookier looking kids, a blond, scoffs at her, looking around his table for their reactions. 

“Excuse me?” 

She grips the broom in a death grip, replying lazily. “You heard me.” 

“Well I think you heard me too. I asked if anyone works here?” 

“What do you need?” she forces out, abandoning all customer service cheeriness and hoping to shut them up with meeting halfway. “I don’t take orders to the kitchen, but if it’s small, like a drink- “ 

“Yeah, I’ve actually been waiting for another tea- “

“Sweetened or unsweetened- “

“Hey, aren’t you that girl who punched my girlfriend?” One of the other kids, a brunette, interrupts, looking at Kiara a little strangely. She shakes her head impatiently, feeling her annoyance shoot through the roof. 

“Huh?”

“Yeah, yeah she said you got all pissy and started fighting her over some stupid shit. She also said you got sent to therapy for it.” 

“Oh shit, really?” the blond asks the boy, with a disturbing amount of interest. He looks at Kiara. “How’s that going for you? Did they put you on meds yet? Or were you already on them?” 

Kiara feels the air leave her lungs at his words, unable to find her voice in her shock.

“No, see, she had to have already been on them, that’s why she got in the fight!” A wave of ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh’s’ travel across the table, making Kiara’s blood run cold. “Yeah, my girlfriend said she’s always been a, and I quote, ‘brainless tree hugger’.”

“Yeah, you kinda have to be constantly doped up for that kinda shit- “ 

Kiara starts to ask them to leave but someone else’s voice breaks through her utter dismay, coming from the door to the restaurant. She doesn’t turn to see who it is, too busy staring at the brunette, but distantly recognizes JJ’s voice. 

“What the hell, guys. Aren’t you supposed to be the classy ones?” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, so much so that Kiara glances over at him, noticing it’s the first time he’s set her apart from the Kooks. He gestures between the group and Kiara, stepping closer. 

“‘Cause you do not look like the superiors, right now, that’s for fucking sure. Ever heard of respect?” 

“Why don’t you go somewhere you can actually afford a table, JJ, how about that?” The brunette sneers. 

“Shit, I’ll take _that_ as a no- “ 

The blond shakes his cup full of melting ice in Kiara’s face obnoxiously. 

“Am I gonna get my tea or did you suddenly decide it’s too difficult- “ 

Before he can finish, Kiara yanks the cup out of his hand and in a jerking motion, empties its contents all over his and the brunettes fronts, making them gasp. She swiftly wrenches her apron from her body and throws it at their faces before dropping the broom and wiping the tears she very recently became aware of from her cheeks, turning for the kitchen. She hears JJ call out her name but ignores it, trying to stop her head from spinning. 

She has no plan on where to go but just to go, to get away from the stuffy restaurant and find somewhere to force herself to breathe again. Before she can make it out of the back door her dad catches her arms, a worried expression on his face as he looks between her and the dining room. 

“Hey, hey, slow down K, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She didn’t know exactly how to describe it, especially to him so she just rushes through her sobs, throwing an arm towards the front. 

“This place attracts assholes, that’s what’s wrong!” 

His eyebrows draw together before he checks the dining room again. Kiara makes out the group, now standing and wiping down their shirts with a pile of napkins as they shout complaints and profanities. JJ picks up the broom awkwardly before reaching for the pile of napkins and dunking it in one of the filled drinks. The blond starts yelling at him, sounding annoyed as ever, before Kiara’s dad pulls her aside, out of view of the dining room and gives her a look. 

“Did you do that?” 

Hot tears continue to fall down her face at the accusation. 

“What do you mean did I do it?” she nearly shrieks, pulling out of his grip defensively. He clenches his jaw before pointing a warning finger at her. 

“This is exactly what your mama was talking about. You need to watch yourself, K, because this is becoming unacceptable- “ he raises his tone as she turns away from him, running her shaking hands through her limp hair before throwing herself out of the back door. 

The afternoon sun hits her eyes, making her drop down at the steps and hold her head, feeling the tingling in her fingertips as she squeezes her temples. Her whole body tingles at her uneven breathing but she doesn’t really care. All she can think about was the last five minutes, playing over and over in her head, resisting any effort on her behalf of trying to move past it all. She wanted to forget it, tries to force the whole encounter from her frazzled brain but unfortunately that wasn’t how it worked, she knew. 

Despite knowing, with every ounce of her energy, that it wasn’t her fault, hearing her dad’s words hurt, and uprooted her confidence altogether. The words hurt way more than she was anticipating, actually. For her to believe that he didn’t share her mother’s views on her behavior, to think for a second he was just going along with it because that’s what he did… of course she was in denial. It was her own ignorance at play, now getting the pleasure of mocking her for it. 

She takes a deep breath which only makes her throat constrict, causing a half sob to painfully rack her chest before she hears the door behind her slowly open. She sits up a little straighter but then decides she doesn’t care that much, wiping her cheeks again and admitting stubbornly, “I’m not apologizing.” 

Her dad doesn’t answer, giving her a small sense of satisfaction. Now if he would just leave her alone to cry the rest of her frustrations out. Instead, she stops rubbing her eyes when she hears a small scoff. 

“Can’t imagine why you would.” JJ observes in a reserved sort of voice. 

She sniffs loudly, trying to steady her voice as she rolls her swollen eyes. 

“What are you doing here, JJ?” 

He doesn’t answer at first, just stands by the door for a moment before lowering himself a good distance beside her at the steps. 

“John B told me you might be here.” 

She tiredly peers over at him, giving up on wiping at her face. He looks at her then, if not a little nervously, before his eyes fall to the ground, a guarded expression on his face. She chokes out a laugh to prevent a sob, her breath hiccuping as she brushes the fallen hair from her face. 

“Look, I really don’t wanna get into another argument right now, so just- you can leave and I won’t blame you for it. Just… we can pretend like all that, “ -she waves a hand behind her- “never happened.” Her voice breaks mid sentence, causing her to stop and take another deep breath and hold back another laugh. The whole situation just got worse the longer she thought about it. Complaining to JJ of all people was the last thing she needed, giving him one more reason to judge her was all she saw it as. Instead, JJ bites on the inside of his cheek as a concerned look crosses his features, like he’s struggling to find words. He clears his throat awkwardly, getting a glimpse behind him. 

“We don’t have to talk about… that- but- I mean, I overheard what your- what your dad said and it’s not your fault. What happened was literally just them being the usual dickheads they are, so don’t, ya know, beat yourself up over it.” 

She takes him in, trying to think of what exactly to say. One question pops up in her mind and she tries to steady her voice while she asks it. 

“How much did you hear?” 

He must sense where her mind was going because he hesitates before answering, as if picking the least uncomfortable words to give her, trying not to lie but wanting to tell her what she wants to hear, which was ‘none of it’. He swats at the air dismissively and for a second she wonders if he’s going to answer at all when he gives her a small smile. 

“You punched someone?” 

A watery laugh escapes her, catching her off guard as she hesitantly nods. He gives her a subtly impressed bob of his head, which suddenly makes her feel a little better. Maybe she wouldn’t forever associate this day with being called a brainless tree hugger. 

“Bitch deserved it too.” she mutters, her spasming lungs finally subsiding as she recalls that particular day, an ease washing over her as she sees him smirk. He leisurely holds up his hands. 

“I don’t doubt it.” 

The tears on her cheeks dry by the time she works up the courage to speak again. 

“Seriously, though, you don’t have to feel bad or whatever…” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to wipe the concern off his face before looking at her again. It doesn’t really work but she gives him kudos for trying, regardless. 

“I actually came by to just… I dunno, I guess I kinda felt like shit about the other day and assumed you couldn’t feel much better, so… I mean, John B’s kinda gullible, ya know? Like really gullible. And when he tries to bring people into the group, they literally just end up leaving and I’m kinda sick of it. I am sick of it. And I’m not gonna lie, I really hate Kooks.” 

“Sure.” she offers, watching him fidget with his rings as she absently pulls at her necklaces. He takes a double take at her, pausing in his mental gymnastics and convoluted apology as if wanting for her to elaborate. 

“I hate ‘em too, but go on.” 

He stares at her, a little amused, before continuing. 

“That’s all I really had, actually. You get the gist, thought, right?” 

She nods slowly, trying to compose herself as she searches his face for anything he might’ve left out, feeling relieved that she can see the boy from the beach again. 

“Yeah. The apology part could’ve been stronger, but I think I got it.” 

It’s his turn to search her face now, as if he’s reassuring himself this isn’t a mistake. She wants to tell him she has no intention to ever exploit John B’s gullibility, that it didn’t have to be something he decided just this second, to let her in. If time was what it took then she would wait. If he hated seeing people leave then she would stay, until something bigger than either of them forced it otherwise. She wanted to tell him all of this but instead, she forced all the reassurance she could in a smile that he apparently deemed enough. 

The door behind them scrapes against the concrete steps, making them both jump. Kiara’s dad tiredly looks between the two of them, his eyes lingering on JJ. 

“Were you the one that stupidly wasted half a stack of napkins in a glass of water?” 

“No, sir.” 

JJ’s quick to deny it, standing up and turning on the small space left from the open door. Kiara observes the two as they stare at each other, having a feeling that JJ knows he’s fooling no one here. 

“But I can help clean it up.” 

Mike raises his eyebrows, clearly not in the mood, before turning and mumbling something about ‘straight up horse shit’.

“Actually, I can clean it up by myself. Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. I got it, sir.” JJ calls after him, gesturing for Kiara to go in front of him, muttering “I think it was the dickwads that sat at the table, I think I saw them do it, right Kie?” 

Kiara agrees without hesitating, restraining a smile at the nickname and grabbing a towel and a tray to help him clean up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kiara and to write a bullying scene was actually a bit painful but luckily she has a support group now :) Also, I think it's so interesting to think of all the similarities between Kie and JJ so that will definitely reoccur

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and opinions are welcome :)
> 
> My tumblr is @chestnutblondehead


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